The Known Unknowns of Princeton Plainsboro
by SammiMD
Summary: Following the storyline of the Season 6 Episode "Known Unknowns" - House left so much unsaid, Wilson didn't say what he was thinking. What was really going on behind the scenes?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: This fic is heavily based on the Season 6 episode "Known Unknowns". It follows the plot line of that ep fairly closely. I always felt there was a lot of subtext that had been left out, so I wrote this to cover it._

_If you enjoy it and want me to write a second chapter (I have one half-written) please comment. No comments = no second chapter :D_

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_House's Story_

House grabbed his buzzing phone off the nightstand and opened the text he'd just received – it was from Foreman. Something about a patient, with X-Rays attached. House limped out of his bedroom, still in his pyjamas, squinting at the image on the screen. He stepped up to Wilson's bedroom door and commented sarcastically on Foreman's expectations for him to see anything on his phone screen. Belatedly he noticed that Wilson was packing a suit bag.

"Why are you packing?" House asked and half-listened as Wilson chewed him out for forgetting about some medical conference. As if he could possibly be interested in a conference on Pharmacology and Public Policy. He tuned back in to Wilson's rambling.

"…think of it as a vacation. Or not. I don't care, you're coming with."

House tried to think of an excuse to get out of going with Wilson to the conference, "You should come with me. State Pillow-Fighting Championships - $1 beers, wet t-shirts. In the words of the philosopher Eddie Money – I've got two tickets to paradise." He limped off, not satisfied that Wilson had been in any way convinced to ditch the boring conference.

He managed to avoid speaking to Wilson about the conference for the rest of the morning and on their trip into the hospital. Once there House dived head-first into mocking his fellows' diagnoses of the case they had managed to scrounge up. It sounded boring. Foreman's text had given him enough information to make a preliminary diagnosis on the patient.

"She's got Rhabdo…" he stated.

His team made their usual, predictable objections which he mostly ignored. He mentioned the pillow-fighting championship, hoping one of them would bite, knowing that none of them would actually want to go with him. Cameron made some objection to his diagnosis, so he made a snide comment about her relationship with Chase.

"It's Rhabdo." He repeated, mocked Cameron one more time and dismissed the team from the office to go run tests on the patient. Cameron remained behind, a hurt puppy-dog look on her face.

"What?" he asked, snidely.  
"Why do you always have to be such an ass?"  
"Why do you think I can be anything else but?"  
"You know something is going on with Chase, you know what it is, and instead of rubbing it in my face because you know and I don't, you rub it in my face that you won't tell me. Since when do you keep anything personal a secret?"  
"Since it became more interesting to watch the two of you dancing around each other."  
"So you're trying to break us up instead? What, you suddenly decided that you want something now that you can't have it? You finally decided that you want me?"  
"I've decided no such thing. I've told you more than once that I'm not interested in you. I just like to watch particles interact, add some heat, see what happens."  
"You really are an ass."  
"And a great one at that." He deflected as he walked out the door of his office.  
"No wonder you're alone." Cameron replied.

House walked down the corridor, pretending he hadn't heard Cameron's final comment. He knew she still had a thing for him, that she was hiding it beneath dislike of him. He also knew that he had no interest in her. Sure, he had been once, but everything had gone numb long before he'd gone to Mayfield. Cameron had been one of the things he had purged from his system along with the drugs. There were a couple of things he hadn't been able to purge from his system though and it was these things that haunted him now. Once it had been the burn of the drugs running through his veins, now it was a different burn and a different drug.

He made his way to Cuddy's office and let himself in without knocking.

"Tell me what you came here for House."  
"I've got a legitimate medical reason."  
"You must be so proud."  
House gave her a stunned look. "I've forgotten it…I guess it's no big deal since I was only using it as an excuse to come check out Patty and Selma" he leered down her shirt as she leant forwards over her desk.  
"Well I feel bad. I haven't named your testicles. I don't know why you chose to give them the names of somebody's aunts"  
"It's a compliment – they're always smokin'. Your outbox is three times normal size."  
"There's a lot to be done before the weekend."  
"You take papers home with you. Unless you're not going to be home. Unless you were, for example, going to a medical conference. "  
"I'm driving up with Wilson."  
"Me too."  
"You aren't on the registration list."  
"I love that you checked."  
"But Wilson said…"  
"That I have a case? Yeah, she's being discharged right now."

House left Cuddy's office and went straight back to his. Cameron had left by this stage, which gave him a little time to mull over his thoughts without interruption. Seeing Cuddy always made him feel a small icicle of…something…in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know why exactly he took such pleasure in mocking and humiliating Cuddy, but his day never seemed complete unless he had seen her at least once and had a verbal sparring match. If only that icicle in his stomach would melt.

He left his office to go tell Wilson he'd be joining him at the conference after all.

"So why did you change your mind?"  
"Nobody would go with me to see scantily-clad girls beat each other up with pillows. I guess the next best thing was going to see medical morons beat themselves up intellectually."  
"It's nice to see you have such a healthy level of respect for your peers."  
"They're not my peers, they're just other doctors. Anyway, I call shotgun on the front seat."  
"Oh. You found out Cuddy is getting a ride with me? Or rather, you found out that Cuddy is going to be at the conference. That's why you suddenly changed your mind."  
"Cuddy has nothing to do with it. Charging room service and pay TV to your credit card has a lot to do with it."  
"So glad you have your priorities straight."  
"I aim to please. I'm heading home to pack."  
"No need to. I did it already and your bag is in my car. We leave in an hour."

House went back to his office to play his Gameboy and avoid diagnosing the patient, who he was already certain had Rhabdomyolysis.

An hour and a half later House was sitting in Wilson's car as Wilson paced the sidewalk, waiting for Cuddy. House pulled out Wilson's conference package and started pulling everything out. Program guide, booth layout, some advertising from drug companies, and all the other general paraphernalia one usually found in these packages. Wilson stopped pacing and looked at House.

"Why are you reading my program guide? It's not like you plan on attending any of the presentations." He asked.  
"I like to know how much boredom I'm missing. 'Patient Perceptions of Complications in End-Stage Chemotherapy'. You didn't tell me you were giving a paper."  
"And that was wrong?"  
"Last time you presented a paper you gave me an advanced copy and asked for feedback."  
"And you're wondering why I wouldn't want to repeat that experience?"  
"Oh look! An 80's party!" House deflected, "Just when you think you've left 'Flock of Seagulls' behind in your rear-view mirror suddenly it's up ahead like an un-dead hitchhiker."  
"Cuddy's going."  
"Did you pack my leg warmers?"  
"If you want her, ask her out"  
"My god man! She's not some floozy in a bar! She's the floozy I work for!"

At that point Cuddy walked out of the building with Rachel in her arms and a bag over her shoulder. House gave Wilson a meaningful look to which he got a quirked eyebrow in response before Wilson turned to help Cuddy with her bag. She got into the car and looked at House in the front seat.

"I called shotgun." House defended  
"I didn't say anything."  
"No, but I could hear you judging from back there. The front seat let's me stretch my leg out. I can't do that in the back seat."  
"That's fine. Rachel's car seat has to go in the back anyway and I'd prefer to sit back here with her."  
"So we're agreed then. You're not going to make me talk on the trip up are you?"  
"Not if you don't want to. I was planning on using the trip to review papers anyway."  
"Good."  
"Good."  
"Fine."  
"Ok."

House turned back around in his seat and subtly watched Cuddy setting up Rachel's car seat and strapping the girl into it. The sunlight was shining through her hair, turning the mahogany strands red. He'd never noticed before how much red there was in her hair – under the fluorescent lights of the hospital it always looked dark brown. He preferred her hair now that it was longer – she'd always had it short when they were at school together.

Cuddy turned around to face the front of the car and House quickly averted his eyes. He didn't want her to know that he'd been watching her. That cold icicle was back in his stomach. He wished he knew how to make it go away.

….….….….….

House debated whether or not to show up to the 80's party. On one hand, Cuddy would be there. On the other hand, he hated most of the 80's and normally wouldn't be caught dead wearing any 80's-style fashions. Cuddy or humiliation. Humiliation for Cuddy. Now there was an idea….

….….….….….

House limped into the party wearing a King George-style 18th century outfit. He'd intentionally misread the party invitation, hoping that making a public spectacle of himself would earn at least some humiliation points with Cuddy. Maybe if he made enough of a fool of himself in public then she would realise that he was a changed man. He scanned the throng looking for Cuddy amongst the retro-clad people. He finally spotted her in the crowd and made his way towards her.

"House! 1980's!"  
"Are you sure? They weren't specific."  
"How much did it cost you to rent that?"  
"It was in Wilson's bag."

At that point an annoying partier came up and interrupted them. He flirted outrageously with Cuddy. House saw the panicked look on Cuddy's face and decided not to be an ass, and rescued her from the idiot by taking her out onto the dance floor.

"Thank you. Your leg?"  
"I'm ok. As long as you don't expect rhythm."

House started dancing to the song that was playing. In a few seconds it ended and a slow song started. House gave Cuddy a resigned look and she grinned at him. She put her arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Being this close to her he could smell her perfume and the shampoo she'd washed her hair with. A faint whiff of strawberries tickled his nose. He resisted the temptation to bury his nose in her hair and take a deeper whiff. He tried to think of something to say that would alleviate his awkwardness.

"Remember the last time we danced? Med school – week we met" he said finally.  
"No."  
"I saw you, endocrinology. Tracked you down to the hoe down."  
"I meant – we met before that. In the bookstore"  
"Aah."  
"My third day of school. I hand my syllabus to the guy behind the counter. He barely looks at me, just skims the sheet and tells me I'm overly ambitious, I have a chip on my shoulder and I know how to party" Cuddy laughs  
"I'd forgotten you knew how to party."  
"I said 'you're making that up'. And you said 'your class schedule is overloaded but none of your classes are before 11 and no-one takes Professor Lam's course unless they have something to prove.' "  
"Cos Professor Segall covered the same ground and was the easier grader."  
"I tracked you down. Endocrinology, the party."  
"And one thing led to another."  
"Then it didn't."

"I was going to call you…" he started to say. He was going to take this opportunity to tell her everything – what had happened back then, what had happened since, what was happening now. He felt the cold icicle in his stomach again.  
Cuddy interrupted him, pulling out of his arms, "No. Don't do that. There was no expectations. I was just as into it as you…"

House wasn't going to let her take away his opportunity to finally tell her what he felt, "I was going to come see you. Figure out where things would go from there. That was the morning I got the call from the Dean and I was expelled from my first med school. Didn't seem any point..." House looked at her expectantly, not sure what exactly it was he was expecting.

"I should…go to my room, review papers for the infectious disease panel." Cuddy turned and walked away from him, almost running in her haste to leave.

House stood there for a few moments, stunned. He'd always pictured this moment differently. He'd always assumed that Cuddy would hear him out. Always assumed that she would be interested in what he had to say to her. He'd thought that he could fix the mistake he had made 20 years ago by finally explaining what had happened. Maybe if he'd had a chance to explain it to her then she would give him a second chance to make things right between them. He would tell her how that night with her had been the happiest he could remember, that he fell in love with her. If she only knew that it was his overwhelming shame at being expelled that kept him from coming to see her then maybe she would give him one more chance to be the significant other in her life.

He watched her retreating figure as she walked out of the room, momentarily contemplating chasing after her. He took one step forward and felt the muscle in his right leg spasm. There was no way he could chase her down, or even catch up with her. He thumped his cane on the ground and stalked off in the general direction Cuddy had gone. If he couldn't chase her down then at least he could chase his demons away. He stumbled into the bar and sat down on a stool.

When the barman came over and asked him what he wanted, he ordered a scotch on the rocks. When the drink arrived House paid the barman, picked up the glass and swirled the amber liquid around the ice. The clinking was an almost comforting sound, and the fumes rising from the alcohol had him anticipating the forthcoming oblivion. He raised the glass to his lips and inhaled the smell of the alcohol, before lowering it again. Once an addict, always an addict. Switching one drug for another didn't change the fact that he was an addict. He put the glass down on the bar, the glass clinking faintly as the ice shifted. He got up from the stool and headed up to the room he was sharing with Wilson.

Once there he changed quickly in the dark, not wanting to wake Wilson, not wanting to have to talk about what had happened that night. He got into bed and lay staring at the ceiling, wondering if there was any way he could fix how much he had screwed up his relationship with Cuddy. He wanted nothing more than to tell her how she made him feel, and she wanted nothing more than to treat him like a work colleague and ignore that there had ever been anything between them. He didn't know how to get around that. It wasn't like his usual puzzles – he couldn't experiment to find the solution. He had to work it out, implement it, and get it right all in the first go. He had a sneaking suspicion he had already missed his window and that the opportunity to fix the problem had already been and gone a long time ago.

Sometimes he wished he'd never gone to Mayfield and gotten straightened out. At least on the drugs he'd been so numb that he couldn't feel anything. Now he was in so much pain that every part of him hurt, physically and spiritually.

House closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come and give him some release from his miserable existence.

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_Now remember…no comments, no more chapters. If you loved it, hated it, think I'm off my rocker, whatever! Please comment __ I live for feedback._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: This is a short one folks, promise the next one will be a bit longer._

_Once again, f you enjoy it and want me to write more chapters please comment. No comments = me not writing the (possibly) final chapter :D_

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The next day Wilson was walking around the conference hall pondering his conversation with House earlier that morning when he saw Cuddy sitting on the deck with Rachel. His conversation with House about the 80's party the night before had been very cursory and he felt that there had been a lot House had left out. Maybe Cuddy would fill him in and he'd be able to get a better picture of what had happened. He approached her and exchanged pleasantries before attempting to broach the topic with her.

"So…How did you like 80's night?" he enquired.  
"House talked with you?"

"I was being subtle about it. You left suddenly. I know House can be a little much sometimes."

"No, he was sweet. I just know better than to rely on that."

"He's trying."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a mother now. I need a guy I can count on every single day. That's never been House."

Wilson nodded understandingly. He knew that House went through moods where he tried very hard to act in a socially acceptable manner. Then, as soon as he was busy, stressed or distracted, curmudgeonly House would be back and standing on everyone's toes. He thought this time might be different though – House was still being House, he was just being House in a more restrained way. Usually when he went through his phases it was like there was a different person walking around in House's skin and it always left you wondering what he was up to. This time it was obvious that the rude, arrogant House was still there, he just seemed to be a little less irritable and insulting. Maybe this time would be different.

"Then again…" he started  
"No James, I don't want to hear any 'ifs', 'buts' or 'maybes'. House is House and always will be. He'll always be just a little bit immature, a little bit arrogant, a little bit unreliable, and just as obsessed with his puzzles. He was always obsessive, even before the infarction and vicodin addiction. He's too old to change that."  
"Can't teach old dogs new tricks?"  
"Something like that."  
"You know, I had an old dog once. I went away for summer camp and the kid next door started playing with him. When I came back he suddenly knew how to roll over and play dead. He'd never done that before."  
"House isn't a dog. He's a complicated, damaged, and stubborn man. Do you really think he could change, even if he wanted to?"  
"I think if House puts his mind to something he can make it happen. I think he would do whatever was necessary if it would achieve his aims. There's not much he wouldn't do for you."  
"Don't start with that, James. House blew his chances with me a long time ago. I need to move on and live my life. If that means hurting his ego a little on the way, well, so be it."  
"I don't think it's his ego you're going to hurt."  
"His pride then."  
"No, not that either. Just ask yourself, Lisa, which hospital, and which doctor, did he go to when he had has infarction? He could have chosen any hospital in New Jersey, gone to 'better' doctors, but he chose your hospital and you to be his attending. He trusted you with his life, and he trusted you with his leg."  
"And he's punished me for it ever since."  
"Has he really? Look at how House mocks his patients. He calls them idiots or morons, makes out that they are totally insignificant to him. Occasionally he'll take the time to think up a more scathing insult, but generally he sticks to his favourites. Then there's you. When he insults and degrades you it's always something personal. He knows everything about you, pays attention to what is going on in your life, takes an interest. Show me anybody else he has done that with."  
"So because he can insult me in a way that is more personal it means he likes me? Come off it! He just likes insulting people."  
"Really? Have a think about it, you'll see what I mean" And with that comment he walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She'd done her best not to think about House since that terrible day last year when he had announced to the entire hospital that he'd had sex with her. She'd been so furious. She'd thought he was just pulling another one of his stunts, trying to annoy and infuriate her. What she hadn't known at the time was that he believed every word of it. Amber's death, Kutner's suicide and his increasing dependence on vicodin had combined and driven him over the edge. In his mind he'd turned to the one person he thought could help him and created a fantasy around that idea. Why that person had been her, she still didn't completely understand. She'd used his time in Mayfield to put both physical and emotional distance between them, re-evaluate her relationship with him. They had so much history together that it was hard to draw a line in the sand and say 'no more'.

Their affair at school had been so short. A week or so of flirting, another week of semi-dating, one wonderful night where it seemed the entire Universe had revolved around them. And then…nothing. She'd never heard from him again. It was like he'd disappeared off the face of the earth. Rumour had it that he'd been expelled, or moved to Belize to be physician to a powerful drug lord, or just committed suicide. Nobody seemed to know the whole truth of it. Cuddy had eventually managed to get enough clues together to work out what had really happened – House had been expelled from Johns Hopkins and had withdrawn completely from society. Knowing how proud he had been of his attendance at Hopkins Cuddy could understand his reaction. What she couldn't understand was why she had been included in that social distancing – she'd thought that their relationship was deeper than that.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She refused to think about House and twist herself into knots over him. She'd spent 20 years or more being tangled up with him somehow. She needed to cut loose and live her own life before it was too late. She had a daughter to think of now. House would just have to grow up and learn to stand on his own two feet without her to rely on.

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_Don't forget, I live for comments! Comments feed my muse. Don't feed the muse and it dies of starvation. Muse dies of starvation and I write no more chapters. Moral to the story? Make comments, save a muse :D_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Ummm….stuff. Ok, so I lied about there only being one chapter to go. I left writing this chapter for so long that I had to go back and watch the episode (again) to see the body language. I noticed I'd missed these two little scenes in my original draft of the story and thought I wanted to add it in. It just gives a bit more perspective to House._

_There's been lots of comments made about the fact that Lucas appears in this fic. Firstly, he says TWO lines. Secondly, he's in the episode and so has an influence on the storyline. Thirdly, it gave me a chance to bitch about him using House's thoughts. I like having the opportunity to say rude things about Lucas. You should sit back and enjoy the moment._

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House sat in the hotel room he was sharing with Wilson, the entire contents of their mini bar spread out on the table in front of him – pretzels, chips, soda, everything, even the alcohol. He was swirling a can of grape soda as James walked into the room. He put the can down and picked up an open packet of pretzels, holding them out to Wilson.

"Pretzel…"  
"Those are going to show up on my credit card at seven bucks a bag. There's an all-you-can-eat buffet downstairs."  
House poured them both a glass of grape soda, "Studies show that $10 wine tastes better if you're told that it costs $90. I'm sure the same thing must be true of grape soda. Have one. You can toast your pending unemployment."  
"Yes, you can sit here running up my hotel bill or you can go get the woman of your dreams." James stated before taking a mouthful of soda.  
"I didn't know Angela Merkel was attending the conference." House nursed his glass of soda.  
"I just spoke with Cuddy. She doesn't think you're reliable and you will remain 'friend zoned' until that changes."  
House thumped his glass down onto the table "I can't convince her that I've changed my entire personality in a weekend."  
"Yeah but you could make the first step."  
"What does she need?"  
"Today? A baby sitter."

House pushed his glass away and leant on the table. He was thinking about how this news was going to change what he'd had planned for this afternoon.  
"What are you thinking about?" James asked  
"Fjords." He prevaricated.  
"You see, seriously, I know this is out of your comfort zone but don't scheme,  
don't…just do the deed.." James stuttered.  
"You tell me that I've got to show her I've changed and yet you act like you don't believe I can. If I can't convince my best friend…"  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean….I didn't mean…I didn't mean…" James squinted, frowned and glared at House, "You drugged me. She's better off without you." Wilson managed to get out before collapsing forward onto the table.  
House reached forward to grab his friend's head and lower it gently to the table. "Words can hurt you know."

He stood up from the table and looked around the hotel room. The first part of his plan had been easy. The rest would be a bit more difficult. He knew that Wilson would end up with a terrible crick in his neck and back if he left him passed out at the table. The least he could do after drugging him was to make sure that he'd at least wake up feeling comfortable. Maybe he'd be less mad that way. House looked from Wilson to the bed. This was not going to be easy.

He limped around behind Wilson's chair, tossed his cane over towards the bed and grabbed onto the back of Wilson's chair. 'May as well get this over with' he thought, and jerked on the back of the chair. It slid a few inches across the floor. A few more goes of that and he'd gotten Wilson close enough to the bed that he could tip him out of the chair and onto the mattress. That done he grabbed his cane and went off to find Cuddy to see if he could convince her that he was a changed man.

He hesitated for a moment when he got to her door. What could he say to her to convince her he wasn't a jerk? He knew she'd see through him being there unannounced to help her out. He knew that she'd know Wilson had told him she needed a babysitter. Maybe it would just be enough for her that he was finally showing an interest in her child rather than himself for once. Would that be enough to show her that he cared for her? He couldn't think of any excuses not to knock on the door, so he did. Cuddy answered quickly and stood there for a moment, looking at him in surprise.

"Oh, I thought you were room service. Something going on with your patient?" Cuddy seemed flustered.  
House completely ignored her question, "It's quiet in there. Is Rachel asleep?" He didn't wait for her answer, "I thought maybe you could use a babysitter." House looked at the floor, not sure what he would see if he met her eyes.  
Cuddy paused for a moment, "Actually I've got her in day care downstairs."  
"Oh. Great. Maybe later" House turned to leave. He was disappointed and knew he shouldn't be. He'd doubted she'd accept his offer of help but…he heard the sound of a child laughing.

He stopped and turned back around. Cuddy was looking at him with a mix of guilt and regret. She stepped aside as he walked towards her. He went into the room, not sure what he was going to see, not sure who was going to be in there. He knew where Wilson was, so it couldn't be him….

Lucas. It was Lucas. That incompetent, idiotic private dick he'd hired. The man who was incapable of disguising himself, following people discretely or picking appropriate surveillance points. And here he was, sitting on Cuddy's hotel room floor, nursing Rachel. House could barely breathe. On one hand he wanted to scream at Lucas that Cuddy was his. On the other hand he couldn't blame Cuddy for being with someone else. His throat constricted as Lucas looked up at him. He swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat that felt like it was trying to choke him to death.

"Hey House."  
"Hey Lucas."  
"This is awkward."  
"A bit." House's eyes went from Lucas to the floor, not sure where to look, knowing he couldn't face Cuddy, "That awkwardness would probably go away if I left." He said before turning to leave the room.

He roamed the hotel hallways, his stomach churning with anger, self pity and regret. He was furious at Lucas and he knew his reasons were entirely childish. Part of him believed that Cuddy always belonged to him. Her relationships had never lasted very long and he'd always thought that was because she couldn't be happy with anyone but him. He thought Lucas knew him well enough to know how he felt about Cuddy. The little twerp was completely incapable of hiding the fact that he was a detective, but he was damned good at reading people and getting information. Surely he could have worked out what Cuddy meant to him. And Cuddy – to even contemplate a relationship with Lucas. The man was…a boy! He was like a 13 year old in a man's body. Plus his eyes were just…weird. How could they both betray him like that? It felt like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut.

But it's not like he should expect any less. Why on earth would Cuddy want a cranky, old cripple like himself? He wished he'd just told her why he'd never called her after he'd gotten expelled from Hopkins. It was all about the shame. He was so ashamed that he'd been expelled, so ashamed that he'd cheated, and even more so that he'd been caught at it. He couldn't have handled the look of disappointment in her eyes when he'd told her. He couldn't have handled feeling like he'd failed her somehow. Yes, he'd met her after the incident at Hopkins, but it wouldn't have made it feel any less like he'd betrayed her confidence in him. He didn't think any woman could look past such an obvious character flaw. So he'd left before she could reject him. Now he thought that maybe that he'd been the one great mistake in his life. Losing his mobility was no comparison to losing Cuddy.

He turned and thumped one of the corridor walls. What was the point? He'd lost her. She'd moved on from him. She trusted another man with her child. That was the big step for her – entrusting her child to another person. And House had missed his chance. The better man had won. Well, the better twerp, but he was just being vindictive now. He punched the wall again. It wasn't making him feel any better.

Normally at a time like this he'd go find someone else to torture. He'd taunt his Fellows, mock his patient, annoy Wilson, insult Nurse Jeffrey, anything to get his mind off what was bothering him. Ever since Mayfield that approach hadn't worked anymore. He just didn't get the satisfaction he used to out of making other people miserable. He sighed and leant against the wall. Mayfield had changed everything. He still couldn't work out if it had changed things for the better. Everyone else around him seemed happier and to be moving on with their lives. Moving on and having lives that didn't involve him anymore. Maybe that's what it took to make people happy – to not have him in their life. He sighed again.

There was no use to standing here sulking though. He'd told Nolan he wanted to be happy. Maybe he could find that happiness if he showed the people that were important to him that they could still be happy if he was a part of their existence. He pushed off the wall and headed back to his hotel room. Before deciding to go offer Cuddy his babysitting services he'd had other plans involving Wilson. Even if he couldn't convince Cuddy that he was a changed man, maybe he could convince Wilson that he was.

He walked back into their room and looked at Wilson passed out on the bed. House wondered if Wilson would ever forgiven him for what he was about to do. Not just for drugging him, it wasn't like he hadn't done that before, but…for the rest.

Step one – pants. Step two – speech. Step three – save Wilson's career.

….….….….….

_Please comment. No comments means I despair of my ability to write and turn my computer off forever :P_


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